


A Curious Encounter

by horusporus



Category: Smallville
Genre: Dubious Consent, Id Fic, Kink Meme, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Sorry Not Sorry, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:44:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3579984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horusporus/pseuds/horusporus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark meets someone from his home planet. Well, something. <br/>[old fic; written circa season 1-2.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Curious Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> literally one of the first things I wrote when I joined livejournal, back in 2003. 
> 
> wow. twelve years ago, i sat down, and wrote this. god bless my younger self, you precious child.

He shouldn't have come.

But, to come back from New York not two days later and hearing excited rumblings from the Astronomy Club about another meteor shower, thankfully minor, but too close to the caves for his comfort.

He _had_ to go.

And here he was, standing uncertainly at the entrance of the caverns, the dusky evening throwing everything into shades of purple.

In the eerie blue half-lights he walked deeper into the area of impact. 

The Club members were planning a trip tomorrow, so that left him only this evening to soothe his fears.

It was the first time he's been here since meeting Dr. Swann and learning about Krypton. Now he looked at the walls with new eyes, comprehension dawning as he read the story of Numan and Seget for the very first time.

He was enraptured by the prophecy when he felt the walls rumble.

That's... not good.

Clark looked around slowly. Hesitantly, he moved towards the source of the noise.

The rumbling grew louder. Bits of stone and gravel were being shaken loose.

*Who dares disturbs me?*

Clark gasped. The voice in his head, it wasn't English.

It was Kryptonian.

"Who _are_ you?"

*You make no sense. Who is this?*

The voice wasn't really angry. More displeased. And curious.

Clark gasped again. In pain. He fell to the ground, clutching his head. The pain was almost as bad as when the key called to him.

As soon as it began, it stopped.

*I see.*

It was speaking in English now.

Clark could barely get the words out. "Who are you?"

*You don't know me?* Still curious.

He was staggering to his feet when he mumbled his answer.

Something slithered out of the darkness, and slipped around him.

*You do not recognise your own deity?* Another tentacle, smaller in width, wound around his neck, its tip tilting his face this way and that.

It spoke again, in Kryptonian: *you deny who you are?*

Something compelled Clark to tell the truth. "I... I was sent away. I don't remember anything."

He tried to ignore the lazy, caressing way of the bands around him, around his neck, his torso, his waist...

One slithered under his shirt and settled on his spine.

*Poor little orphan child.*

*I've been searching for you.*

Clark found himself held high above the ground, held by the slimy unending arms, his legs forcefully parted. He tried very hard not to panic, clutching at the band around his waist, trying to pry free.

It gave, but only a little.

He looked frantically around. Was there Kryptonite around?

The walls rumbled again, and his question was answered.

There were fragments embedded on the... creature's bulbous head. Its multiple eyes, black pools of nothing, looked at him impassively.

There was silence, and then an amused, *hello*.

Clark struggled anew.

But the hold on him grew tighter, and the voice in his head took on a taunting tone, *This is interesting...*

"Please, let me go...."

*No.*

A shock went through his body. His body arched helplessly as the pressure on his spine lashed his body again and again with unbearable pleasure.

"...nnn..."

He felt his face reddened, ashamed, embarrassed, aroused beyond measure. Beyond words. He tried to struggle, but his efforts were too feeble to make any difference.

Some small part of him wondered at the feeling of terror that coursed through his veins. 

It seemed to please the creature though; suddenly more tentacles appeared, of varying sizes and strength, all moving with lazy sinuous grace, touching him, caressing him -

He felt so dirty.

The creature trembled luxuriously. Foggily Clark noticed his clothes were being carelessly ripped away.

*It's been so long since I have fed*

A careless tweak of his nipples made him whimper.

*Your race kept me full for centuries. Such a closeted race, yet so fiery in temperament.*

It was obvious now that the creature was feeding on his emotions. His responses. His feelings.

*Never have I thought that I might have enjoyed a banquet such as this in this pathetic rock*

He wanted to learn about his heritage. But not like this. Never like this, he thought helplessly as a slick cold limb slithered up his thigh and rested at -

"NO!!" He trashed with renewed intensity. "No! Please no! N-" A thick tentacle wound around the lower part of his head, keeping him effectively silenced. Only his wide fear-struck eyes could be seen.

Light stroking on the sides of his ribs. On his nipples. Teasing touch on his collarbone, even more gently on his belly, so close to his cock, his traitorous hardening cock. He moaned helplessly.

It was the pressure of the unnatural bindings that pushed his legs open wider. It wasn't him. He did not want this- 

"Ohh..."

More stroking, more touching. His hole felt too sensitized, like it couldn't take an ounce more of touch. His skin was burning up - the cold of the creature seemed to be the only thing keeping him from aflame.

*so close, my little one*

He writhed, secure in his prison, unseeing, unaware. Wanton, suspended in the air, as his nerves are being stimulated by the electric touches, by the grip over his spine.

Clark moved, no longer to free himself. He wanted to get closer, deeper into the sensation. His cock was loosely wrapped and the undulations drove him wild.

He was begging. But not for freedom.

He was sobbing by the time he was finally breached. It moved slowly, so slow, so inexorably slow, as though the creature knew how much he wanted it and wanted to pain to stretch for as long as possible.

It felt so huge and he felt so stretched. So filled up. He was skewered on it. 

And still it pushed on, so very deep, uncaring and expanding, making him gasp and choke on the relentless onslaught of (unwanted; unasked) pleasure. 

It stopped. Clark's breath caught.

It moved. Only it didn't move like how Clark thought it might. It trembled, vibrated, shaking his entire body, sparking fireworks again and again, everytime it shivered and flickered against that something deep inside him, that's making him moan, and cry and tremble alongside the creature, who was deep in ecstasy.

His heartbeat raced and it seemed as though he was suspended on the edge of the precipice for so very long. 

And finally he was pushed off the cliff. 

He came with a cry, his seed splashed against his chest, his face, his cock being milked unceasingly by the massaging tentacle.

It was possible he blacked out; he has no real recollection of what came after.

He remembered being left alone. He remembered the words vibrating in his head (*I may come to enjoy this planet after all*).

He remembered the tear tracks drying in the cool draft of the cave.


End file.
